Chapter Three
Carolina’s gasp echoed through the sparsely furnished bunkhouse. Teddy hadn’t been joking when he said the bunkhouse needed a little TLC. It stank worse than a hotel room filled with PBR riders after an all-night celebration. “Holy s**t, did something die in here?”
“You can’t stay here. What was daddy thinking?” Carolina grimaced, waving an arm in front of her face.
Cody’s mouth kicked up as he burst out laughing. A deep belly laugh, the likes he hadn’t given into since long before his nearly fatal ride. He clutched his stomach as the laughs kept coming. It had been too damned long since his brother had pranked him like this, for in front of the Franklin stove, he’d spied a bag of fresh manure. Park’s words rang in his head. You’re a Hansen for chrissakes, not a quitter.
